


Dreams of past are good enough

by Winga



Series: (Kinda) prompted [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-26
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-18 20:23:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2361116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winga/pseuds/Winga
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For a tumblr prompt, written in July. Prompt: Good enough; pairing: Drarry.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Dreams of past are good enough

**Author's Note:**

> For a tumblr prompt, written in July. Prompt: Good enough; pairing: Drarry.

He holds them dear, the memories from a time so long ago. Yet he never speaks of them, because speaking would make him think about what happened after and why and how ugly life could be, how ugly people could act.

As if he hadn’t had enough of that for a lifetime, especially before.

(Even now, sometimes, a witch or a wizard would stop him, hiss and snarl at him, never taking a wand out but still stand there threatening, say something along the lines of _he should have managed to kill you you were just a **kid**_.)

But after, there had been a summer, there had been a romance and there had been love. It had been dirty and it had been simmering hot, it had been everything he’d been seeking from Ginny before and had found from her later, just not right then.

He’d been returning Malfoy’s wand to him, been acting all normal, or as normal as you could towards the boy who bullied him for so long, but it had been something in his gaze, something pleading for him to talk to him.

So they’d talked. Through the night and next and suddenly there had been firewhiskey (and Malfoy admitted, days later, during a steamy afternoon, that it had been because he’d needed to get Harry drunk so that he could just write it off as something stupid) and then Malfoy had been climbing into his lap.

And somehow it had clicked.

And it had kept clicking for months until

until everything had felt wrong and off and Malfoy had told him he was engaged to be married in the end of the summer.

But for those sacred weeks, two months or so, it had been enough. It had all been enough for him. For the both of them.

(Some days he misses. Some days he writes letters he never sends and wonders if Draco ever thinks about him, because in those moments he forgives, he thinks of him as Draco again, like during the weeks.)


End file.
